Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction Group 3 - 2017 | Page 279

Lost in Paradise
Renaissance College HK, Karthik, Markandeya – 11
T
he sky was a light pink as the sun slunk behind the tall skyscrapers and cranes that loomed over old Shanghai. As
lanterns glowed to make up for the fading light, the smell of steamed fish balls enveloped the rank of the turbid
Huangpu river and permeated through the sultry evening air. The old shops with paint peeling off the walls
lowered their steel shutters as one batch of tourists shuffled their way out to the taxi stands and a fresh bunch
started trickling in to take in the sights of the old city by night. Dusk seemed to be the only time of day when the
‘village that never emptied’ at the heart of Shanghai, was forlorn. And, this didn’t help the despondent 8 year old boy
standing in the middle of Sinan Road, clutching a teddy bear in his hands. His name was Zhen Qu. He was lost.
Zhen Qu was from a simple village called Xiushui on the outskirts of Guilin. His parents were thinking of moving to
Shanghai where his father had been offered a teaching role at the Shanghai Jiao Tong University’s department of
Economics. This trip was part of a sequence of short ones that his parents had undertaken to Shanghai in their effort to
gently introduce Zhen Qu to where he’d be growing up. In his quest for trinkets, Zhen Qu had gotten separated from
his parents as they strolled along the narrow streets of Old Shanghai.
Zhen Qu eyes teared up. He covered his ears and moaned. The noise of store shutters being downed mixed with the
exuberant laughter and loud chatter of people around him got to him. He wasn’t used to this. His hometown was so
tranquil, you could hear a pin drop. He broke into a dash to try and escape the madness. He needed to find his parents.
He couldn’t bear being alone.
He turned a corner, and slowed. As the noises faded behind him, the sound of his raspy breathing took over. He plopped
down on the stone sidewalk and realized he was in the midst of one of the most breathtaking views he had ever seen.
That was quite something for someone who born in the jewel of China. He stared dreamily at a long stone bridge
underneath which water reflected the sunset. As his mood lightened, a sad smile played on his face. He stood up and
stretched, his confidence renewed by the thought that his parents would be looking for him too.
And so Zhen Qu renewed his search around Old Shanghai. He scanned the dimly lit lotus pond where he last saw his
parents. He ran where his heart told him to, till his legs fell like falling apart, till his feet became painful and he could run
no more. He peered through the black stained windowpanes of the antique shops. He ran over the bridges that stretched
across the lotus ponds and goldfish rivers. In some superhuman way, the desperation to find his parents kept him going.
He even scaled the tallest building in the old city to try and spot them, but to no avail. He slowed down, eventually, near
the dilapidated stone wall that separated the old city from the modern megalopolis. He had covered the entire old city
of Shanghai. He sank to his knees. Hopeless. That’s what he was.
As he consoled himself, he overheard a few soft voices. Lifting his tear blotched face from his palms, he slowly, silently,
moved towards the sounds until he was staring at the backs of 4 men with leather jackets. Mustering up what little
courage he had left, he walked over to the group.